


Not Without Sacrifice

by Caves



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Dark!Jack, Eventual Smut, Light Dubcon Touching, M/M, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-04-12 11:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19130803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caves/pseuds/Caves
Summary: Rhys finds a way to shove Handsome Jack’s AI into a body, and all he wants is just a small, tiny favor for Atlas from him in return. It’s too bad that Jack, on the other hand, doesn’t owe anyone a damn thing.Handsome Jack is now back with a lovely vengeance, and Rhys serves his purpose however ol’ Jack sees fit. Rhys isn't angry, but how far will this go until he breaks?





	1. Verbatim

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very First Rhack fic!  
> I plan for it to get very, very dark before it's over. So if that's not really your thing, just be wary. C:  
> *This is based around a year or so after Tales, just for reference!*

_      Sometimes, your lowest point can be hand crafted into the most successful point in your entire life.  _ Rhys repeated this mantra in his aching head while he kept his eyes closed, trying to convince himself that all of this torture would be worth it. The cold metal of the floor was unforgiving as he sat kneeling with hands tied behind his back, and his legs slowly, but surely, falling asleep. His wrist felt raw from the plastic covered cord that bound him. He tried to break it using his metal arm, but it only caused the cord to cut deeper into his flesh. A loud, frustrated groan caught him off guard. Rhys’ eyes flew open, only to be met with darkness. Even though he couldn’t see anything past blindfold, he rotated his head, trying to locate the direction of the sound. The voice sounded incredibly close to his spot on the floor.

 

     “J-Jack, can you please take the b-blindfold off now? I’m on your side now, I promise,” Rhys’ voice wavered. 

 

     There was no response from the other male in the room. All that could be heard was his own shallow breathing, and the sound of heavy footsteps growing louder. The footsteps came to a halt, and the room was silent once more. Deafening silence was replaced with a heavy thud, a sickening crack of fragile bones breaking, and a kaleidoscope of pain. The force of the fist meeting the already tender, bruised face caused the younger man to tumble over sideways. Tendrils of agony crept across his face as he struggled to regain his balance on his knees. He could feel the warmth of fresh blood trailing down his face to coat his neck and chest. 

 

     “Cupcake, look what you made me do,” The heat of Jack’s breath across the painfully swollen side of his face, combined with the sweetly sadistic tone in his voice made Rhys tremble. A calloused hand carefully grabbed his jaw, slowly moving his head from side to side. Light kisses were placed delicately in a row across the now broken skin of his cheekbone. Lips brushed against Rhys’ forehead, making his heart skip a beat. 

 

     Jack spoke softly, with only minuscule amounts of malice dripping from his words, “I really don’t want to hurt ya anymore, Rhysie. Just help me out a little here, and stop lying through your _goddamn teeth_.”  

 

     The former Hyperion CEO had only been here, in the flesh for a grand total of two hours, but to Rhys it felt like centuries . As much as he was enjoying the newly introduced physical contact, albeit mostly painful, he began to question his own motives. He was, in fact, telling the truth. Perhaps not the whole truth, but it was close enough that Jack (of all people) had no business calling Rhys a liar. His intentions were almost pure. The plan was: bring Handsome Jack back to life, convince the older man to help him with super important Atlas business, spend some quality time with him  _ outside _ of Rhys’ brain, and possibly have the ex-CEO fall madly in love with him in the process. Maybe not that last part of the plan, but something similar to it was good enough. He couldn’t deny that he developed some kind of emotional attachment to having Handsome Jack hanging around in his brain. Having to literally rip the remainder of Jack out of his body hurt him in more ways than one. Rhys had sworn to his friends that there was no digital or physical trace of the AI left. In all actuality, he had kept the detached ECHO eye as a private memento. Permanently destroying all possibilities of bringing the AI back would have been a dire mistake. At least, that’s what he told himself late at night when he couldn’t sleep. If anyone needed an explanation in the future, he would just tell them it was purely a smart business decision. 

 

     Suddenly, Rhys felt Jack’s fingers slowly release his jaw, and travel up to the fabric that rested on his face. He screwed his eyes shut as the blindfold was removed, bright light flooding his senses. As the painful shock from the light cleared away, he realized that he only had half of his sight. Swelling from the trauma to his head had prevented him from seeing out of his golden left eye. 20/20 vision or not, he could still very well make out the features of the man who was lingering just inches from his face. There was no mistaking those clouded hetero-chromatic eyes, the dark mocha colored hair with a slight dash of gray, and that smug grin spanning from almost ear to ear. 

 

     “Now, how’s about telling your ol’ pal Handsome Jack the truth, hmm?” The grin faded into an accusatory frown, ”Took some big balls to yank me outta your head like that, kid. Why’d you go through all that bullshit,  _ just _ to bring me back?”

 

     Rhys took a deep breath, wincing as he opened his mouth to speak, “I hit a snag on one of the projects I was working on for Atlas.” He paused for a moment to make sure Jack wasn’t going to hit him again. “I’ve been by myself out here, trying to give Atlas a bigger platform to stand on again. It’s not exactly easy, I mean you obviously know that. I just thought that I could do you a favor, and you-” 

     Cutting Rhys off with a disbelieving chuckle, Jack’s voice burned in his ears, “You really thought that you could put me back into a body as a favor, and I would  _ agree _ to help you do something with Atlas?  _ After what you did to me? _ ” The skin around the flesh-like mask was turning a dark shade of red and his smile turned into an intense frown , “Pumpkin, that is  _ not _ how Handsome Jack works, you obviously know that.” 

 

     Before he could respond, the hand that had been oh so gentle just a moment ago was now clutching Rhys’ throat. He wanted to explain it all, tell Jack that it wasn’t like that. All he could manage to get out of his mouth was a pathetic sounding whine. Jack’s angered expression didn’t change as he tightened his grip, panic flooding over Rhys’ reddening face. As he leaned back, trying to lessen the pressure on his neck, the edges of his vision began getting dark. He tried to shake his head, wiggle out of the grasp somehow. Nothing he did was working, and it was quite clear that Jack was not going to let up any time soon. Still struggling to breathe, he locked eyes with the man choking him. Desperation painted across Rhys’s face as determination crossed Jack’s. His eyelids felt heavy, and alarms were going off in his head. All he could see were the bi-colored eyes that were staring back at him, along with fuzzy darkness closing in. 

     As he finally began losing consciousness, Jack leaned in closer, resting his free hand on Rhys’ thigh. “Killing you gets more and more tempting every fucking time you pass out, Princess,” Jack whispered breathlessly into his ear. The words floated around in Rhys’ brain as everything went black.


	2. Bloodstains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys wakes up, and is still unable to remember why he thought bringing Jack back would be a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses for how long it took to update this.  
> I started other projects and this story got put on the back burner.  
> My sincerest apologies to those who cared enough to read the first chapter and were expecting more, sooner.  
> This chapter wasn't beta'd, I bounced all over the place with it, and there's probably a million mistakes, but! that's okay!

_A growling, glowing green badass corrosive skag stood menacingly over Rhys. Crawling closer to his upper body, its mouth flew open, holding the position. The stench itself coming from the orifice almost knocked him out. Keeping the rest of his body completely still, he slowly moved his right arm underneath the skag’s head. The moment his arm was in position, the creature lunged, jaws snapping shut with a dull thunk. His metal arm was barely enough to hold back an angry bandit, much less a pissed off, badass skag. Though the arm held up, there was nothing he could do about the corrosive liquid pooling in the semi-closed maw._

_The skag fought back hard, breathing heavily, gnashing its teeth inches from Rhys’ nose. The erratic movement caused the saliva to start dripping; sticky strands of acid fell in slow motion, stretching down onto Rhys’ face. Surprisingly, it didn’t burn him. He felt none of the pain that would normally go along with this situation, though he did feel the moistness of the saliva rolling across his face. Almost mechanically, the skag clamped its mouth shut and stopped moving. Standing as still as a statue, the creature over him reopened its mouth. The laugh was eerily familiar, and considering skags can’t laugh, the whole situation was getting more suspicious by the second._

     Rhys’ eyes flew open. Blinking away the blurriness of sleep, he was greeted by gray concrete ceiling. Finding his vision restored in both eyes was comforting, in a sense. Though the lights were still just as bright, and hurt his eyes, the air felt heavier than before. His whole head was wet with what he hoped was water; a small puddle acting as a pillow as he lay on his side with his legs sprawled out. He let out a huge sigh of relief knowing that he was, in fact, not dead yet. His flesh arm was completely numb, both arms still tied tightly behind his back. With his whole body aching in pain, he spared a glance over to find the source of the hyena-esque laughter. None other than Handsome Jack was doubled over, about a yard away from him; holding an empty cup and pointing a finger at him, wheezing with laughter.

 

“You should have seen your face! Ahaha, holy shit!”

 

“Wha-” Rhys cleared his throat, his voice daring to crack, ”What the hell was that for?”

 

     The sound came out hoarse and strained, nearly drowned out by Jack’s hysterics. A deep, aching pain shot through his neck and face as he lifted his head to get a better look around. Dried blood that coated his neck began to crack and flake away as he moved. Jack wiped away tears and laughter began subsiding, a stern look replacing the grin. He set down the cup and slowly made his way over to where Rhys laid on the floor.

 

“It was for fun, dum-dum. C’mon laugh a little, will ya?”

 

“It’s kind of hard for me to see the humor from down he-”

 

     Within moments of the words passing over his lips, a strong hand was gripping his shoulder, pulling him up into a sitting position. In lieu of letting go, the hand lingered, tightening to an unbearable pressure. Rhys grimaced. Being eye to eye with Jack scared him. It wasn’t a fear of pain, but more a fear of uncertainty.

 

“How about now, Rhysie?”

 

     Hoping that the nickname meant he was in a good mood, the restrained man forced a half-hearted smile, and cautiously nodded his head. Jack released the grip, but kept his hand firmly on Rhys’ shoulder. He was careful not to make eye contact as Jack spoke, focusing on a loose thread on the stretched out collar of the older man’s sweater. It was the only shirt Rhys had found in the building that he thought Jack would accept wearing. All other choices were Atlas branded clothing, and he couldn’t bring back the ex-CEO of Hyperion in a body wearing Atlas merch.

     During Jack’s ramblings about disrespect, Rhys made a mental note of a few additional defects on the sweater. A few holes were scattered around the thin fabric. Faded letters spelling out Hyper on, the ‘i’ missing completely; a few dried blood stains changing the yellow material into a dark brown. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing a wrist tattoo and forearms devoid of scarring. He wondered if Jack had taken notice of the lack of imperfections in his new skin.

     When Rhys was creating this new body, he decided that he would leave out all the scars that adorned Jack’s previous form. He wasn’t sure how accurate adding the marks would be, considering all he had were memories of a blue hologram and old propaganda pictures to go on. Though Jack hadn’t thanked him yet, Rhys was still proud of the work he had done.

 

“Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

  
     Jack growled, snapping his fingers in front of the younger man’s face, and yanking him from his thoughts. Rhys flinched at each snap, recoiling in on himself. Doing as he was told, he brought his gaze back up to meet those two bi-colored eyes.

 

“I really am trying to be nice here, Kiddo. I tried to laugh with ya’! Lighten the mood a bit, but you can’t even be bothered to listen to what I gotta say,” The feigned cordiality in Jack’s tone felt forced, even for him.

“I _was_  listening, Jack.”

“Great! Then tell me what I just said, Pumpkin.”

“You asked me to look at you when you’re talking.”

“Uh-uh, no, _before_  that.”

 

     Rhys wasn’t paying attention before that point, so he thought it would be in his best interest not to respond, keeping his mouth shut. Jack’s mouth, on the other hand, morphed into an eerie, tight lipped smile. The hand on his shoulder tightened again. This time, the grip didn’t release. Instead, Jack shoved hard against Rhys, tipping him over head first onto the floor. Arms unable to break his fall, his head cracked against the metal ground. A sharp, excruciating pain pulsed through his skull as his vision flashed from white to black, clearing after a brief moment. Closing his eyes, he hoped to be lucky enough to lose consciousness. Though, luck hadn’t been on Rhys’ side so far, and it probably wasn’t about to start now.

     When darkness refused to take him, the pounding in his head intensified. Rhys contemplated opening his eyes, but he didn’t think that he could face Jack right now. Tears stung between his eyelids and rolled down the side of his face. Rhys tilted his head as the salty liquid pooled uncomfortably in his ears. His sniffling was soon accompanied by the sound of shuffling on his left side.

     Suddenly, he felt legs straddling his hips, followed closely by the weight of Jack sitting on his groin. The older man’s hands found their way underneath the hem of his shirt and started creeping their way up his stomach. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of whatever was sure to come next. Those same warm hands left goosebumps in their wake, coming to rest on his chest. His shirt was pushed all the way up, leaving his belly exposed. The pounding in Rhys’ head had migrated to his chest, heart threatening to burst through his rib cage. He felt the pressure of weight shifting onto the hands positioned on his torso. As Jack’s hot breath ghosted over neck, Rhys held his own. Teeth grazed the delicate skin of his throat, forcing out a confused whimper. Jack’s tongue darted out, licking up the length of Rhys’ bloodstained neck. A low groan came from Jack. The noise was enough to tempt Rhys to finally take a peek at the man on top of him. Jack sat back up as he watched Rhys stare at him with lidded eyes. The younger man frowned, disappointed at the lack of contact. Running his tongue along his lips and ignoring the flecks of dried blood, the ex-CEO chuckled to himself. 

 

“Go ahead and stop all that ugly pouting, Cupcake. Give me a pretty smile!”

 

“I don’t feel like smiling for you, jerk.”

 

     His hands moved from Rhys’ chest, hooking his thumbs into each corner of Rhys’ mouth and tugging gently. They sat like that for a moment. Rhys gazing up at Jack, teeth exposed in a forced grin; Jack smiling down at Rhys with synthetic fondness. The older man sighed, pulling his thumbs from the other man’s mouth with a pop. Jack dragged his thumbs along Rhys’ cheeks, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in the shape of a smile. As his frown changed into a disgusted scowl, Rhys decided he was done being toyed with. He started bucking his hips up, trying to knock Jack off of him. His efforts were proven to be all in vain as Jack pressed his thighs hard into Rhys' waist, making it clear that he wasn't going anywhere. He slid his hand under Rhys' head, carding his fingers through the clumping hair. Jack pulled on the chestnut locks until the two were nose to nose. Rhys' fear of uncertainty was back in full force. His breathing was labored as he attempted to calm himself down. 

 

“Why can’t ya just learn to listen? I’m being patient, Kiddo, but my patience will wear out eventually,” Jack whispered softly as he let Rhys' head drop back onto the ground with a wet thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter!! That probably wasn't the best place to end, but I never was good at chapter endings. I'm always open for constructive criticism and ways that I can improve. If you find mistakes, let me know, please!!  
> I'm not sure when I'll continue with this, especially considering I've got some other, more spicy things in the works.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this much. It's much appreciated!!  
> Hopefully, if this gets good feedback, I'll post the next chapter soon.


End file.
